Hearts On Fire

Four: The Fight

He was walking around the palace, towards the pool he had loved once. It was very close to the hall, and he prayed there were no partiers there. But as soon as he approached the pool, there were pool of young lads standing, some where sitting while a cool music was blasting softly. He noticed a circle of young girls, but his eyes didn't wander at them for a second. He walked directly to an ottoman at the far end of the pool, there was a lady seated there, in a black dress that truly complimented her skin. But he felt nothing, because he wasn't supposed to feel anything.

He walked directly to where she sat, on the ottoman by her side and sat down. He loved, or so he thought, staring at the pool as the coll evening breeze cooled his mind off. He brought his phone out and began playing a game, that's something he hardly do, but he knew Umma would not let him out of this palace until it was night, and he had nothing to do. He had no friend in his life to call and converse with. He failed the stage he was in the game and hissed softly, "Come on, young lady. You shouldn't have done that." He spoke to himself and existed the game, putting his phone back into his breast pocket.

At the mention of young lady, Fatima Zarah opened her eyes and she abruptly turned to look at the vvoice she heard. He was the one! She didn't know when she stood up and moved to where he sat, silently looking at the fall and rise of the pool. "Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido?!" She couldn't believe this. What brought him here? In an attire...that looked royal?! She didn't care, he might be the Sultan of Sokoto for all she cared, but she was truly going to take her revenge now.

He looked up at her and scrunched his face, she looked like the girl he had locked up and only released hours ago, right? He folded his hands over his chest and waited for what she had to say. But surprisingly, she stopped a waited and collected two cups of black drinks. What Al-mustapha had never expected happened, because she poured the first cup all over his chest and the second one got spilled on his face, dripping in slow drops over his chest, yet again.

She stood over his head with hands at akimbo, Fatima Zarah didn't mind about the gasps she heard from the people or how the crowd had slowly turned to them. She looked at him with a smirk on her face and spoke, "Do you think being a police officer gave you the right to do whatever you want? Just because I shrugged you off without me knowing in the court you had me locked up in your stinky cell for the whole night. Now that I've spilled a drink on you, what do you think you'll do? Have me lcoked up there for eternity or you're going to kill me right away?" She thundered, the rage that was on her face was evident that even Ammi couldn't stop her from doing what she intended to do, and if he was going to take her to the police station because of this, she's also not going.

Al-mustapha looked at the crowd then to Fatima Zarah's face. He groaned silently and thought about Umma that was far away from them with barely ten inches. He had to do what he knew Umma wouldn't want him to, but he can't disgrace himself and deal with this fickle of dust here, would he? Not that he would fell embarassed, but Umma, atleast for her.

The crowd did all they can to muffle their suprises and they eagerly waited for him to speak, to take action, to retaliate. Some where even there to see who the lady was, whom spilled a drink on the body and face of Al-mustapha. He brought his phone out, and he began dialing Small's number when Fatima Zarah snatched the phone away and she looked at it with a snicker.

"So you can't do anything on your own? When you're no more a police officer and you have your royal attire on, you're no more the merciless police officer huh? Does you khaki gives you the strength you need to do whatever you like? I'm not understanding. Are you a coward? Aren't you a police officer? Why can't you act up on your own without getting help from your seargents? That's truly a shame, Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido." Now that she mentioned his full name again, she remembered the late Sultan of Sokoto, his name was Muhammad Maccido. So he was his son?